The first thing came to mind were those days strolling down the streets of Amman. There is something about the sound car tires make, when running over wet pavement that has always reminded me of Amman, specially at night. I remember walking with friends from مطعم هاشم until reaching دوّار الحاووز going through طلعة الخيّام and passing by مستشفى اللوزميلا. Right after the rain had stopped, you would see the city alive once again. People in the streets hanging out, water drops seeping off tree leaves, and a cool breeze reminding everyone to enjoy the fresh air even if for a brief moment. Once again, another winter, but its not Amman.

The closest I was able to muster was a drive with the window down listening to Aziz Maraka’s Amman.

I remember back in the mid 1990’s I would watch TV and Jawad Alanani would be a guest discussing various economic development issues pertaining to Jordan and the world economy. I really thought highly of him and his positive attitude and the way he talked. I admired him very much that I remember in Eighth grade being asked by Nawwaf Nassar, my then English teacher, of What I wanted to be when I grow up. Without hesitation, I said: Economist. Well, times change and lives and aspirations do too. But, deep inside, I still think of the many chronic economic issues facing Jordan and the way that I could once help. However, these chronic problems are seldom the product of the government often faulty public policy. Jordan, unfortunately, is a victim of the traditions and culture of its citizens. From abiding by laws to respecting the privacy of others is a range that affects directly and indirectly the level of economic development of any country.

This is a line from a song that my memory has failed me short right now, seriously i’ve been trying to squeeze my brain but no use.

Again, i’ve only been back to Amman for only a couple of short trips since i came to dubai more than a year and a half ago, and every time i set foot in Dubai when i arrive back, i cannot help but feel relieved. Seriously i don’t know what is wrong with me! I really love Amman and would welcome a visit any time of the year, yet i just feel home and relaxed after coming back to my own home sweet home. Not sure if this is normal people..!

The last visit a month back felt funny, my family had moved to a new home and i couldn’t help but feel like a guest there. It was weird, i didn’t know where the cups are in the kitchen or where i can find a towel or anything, I was shouting out questions to my mom the whole time, kinda funny when my mom herself was confused to where things were.

Is it just me, or that singer whoever he is, said it all: Home is where i lay my hat. Was it a singer?? a movie maybe.. huh?! i seriously don’t remember where i heard this…

Even in Amman. The last time I was in Jordan, Sep. ’07, I walked around the streets, and went for a hookah. Only to realize that I am the expat. In my own country. Worse yet, do I still have the right to call it my country if I only visit once every blue moon. The last time I went to Jordan before that was in 2002. Those were the only two since 1997. It did not feel right. While it doesn’t feel like home here in the states, Jordan did not either.

I know how people are really busy, they barely have time to write in their own blogs, but come on!!! I want it back… I miss you guys, I miss the back and forth emails, I used to lose track after the 4th email 3ala fekra😀 who sent what? Meen rad 3ala meen LOL!

Any way, I just wanted to let it out of my system and let you all know that I love you and I miss you, and I’m sure a lot of people miss our posts in here too sa7??🙂

No…this is not a riddle or some lame joke but actually a serious question and does not only apply to Arabs but to every other nationality, ethnicity, culture or race out there. The question is what is it that defines you in that awkward box that you tick on a census or equal opportunities form?
Al-Jazz has been running a series of articles surrounding Arab Unity and one of these was What makes an Arab?

Sati al Husri seemed to think that:

Every individual who belongs to the Arab countries and speaks Arabic is an Arab. He is so, regardless of the name of the country whose citizenship he officially holds. He is so, regardless of the religion he professes or the sect he belongs to. He is so,regardless of his ancestry, lineage or the roots of the family to which he belongs to. He is an Arab.

That seems to be a very cut and dry explanation for what it is to be something and seems to lay everything at the door of langauge. But what about those living abroad who don’t speak their original language or indeed those living in the Arab world who haven’t mastered the language properly?

In the Al-Jazz article one of the contrubutors gives an anwer which certainly expands the question beyond its ordinary boundaries

Khaled Bahaaeldin, 37, surgeon – Egyptian

“I believe that Arab identity is the product of a historical interaction among people sharing a geographically unpartitioned area.

This interaction comprises theological, cultural, linguistic and political components, each of which takes precedence in a particular historical era. But I have to stress that the ‘intra-actions’ between Arabs have never been due to a singular component.

Indeed, the Arab inhabitants of the Middle East, despite the obvious chauvinisms, could claim communality with each other.”

I believe that the root of this identity lies also in values, religion, habits, attitudes etc. Also a certain unconditional love for a place that seems a little crazy at the best of times.

Have you all noticed that all the posts written by expats on expatriatism don’t know if this is even a word, are about whining thanks for the correctionQwaider ;) and missing home bla bla bla…Why are we expats if we hate it so much? because we don’t hate it or at least i don’t and for me coming to Dubai and starting on my own has been the best experience. The things i have learnt the past year would have taken me … God knows how long if i had stayed home.

So for the list.. here you go, and everybody is welcomed to pitch in:

1. We all love our family, but God! they can really be a pain in the a55 a lot of times over everything and anything. Now i just have the 5 minute call with them daily and this is as far as they can intervene plus i am the long lost child living abroad who get’s what they want when they visit home. In the case of married people IN LAWS as well!!

2. No body knows you! now don’t get me the wrong way as i know most of you all will😉 but this way i can be just ME, no pretending just lil ol me. No worrying over what extended family members or neighbours have to say over my corrupt up bringing.

3. It’s my way always. Just at home of course, i wonder if they are willing to apply this at work… T.V channels, bed time hehehe no my parents never applied this even when i was a kid but i am sensitive to light and sound when i want to sleep, shower time no need to make shower reservations before going out that is if you didn’t have the luxury of a private bathroom.

4. You defenetly grow up. Being broke half way through the month is not an option, you have bills to pay and luckly just one mouth to feed🙂

5. Addition by 7aki Fadi: Depending on what country you are expated to, there is complete religious freedom and nobody judges you if you don’t follow the religion.

6. Addition by Tinkerbella: the casuality of social obligations.. you dont have to pull out all the bells and whistles everytime anyone comes over, you can just take it easy and not do anything.
not to mention that you will *never* get any unexpected visitors and ppl who just show up at your door at 11pm expecting you to invite them over to spend the night!
in the expat world, any visits are always coordinated days/weeks in advance cuz everyone’s so busy

That’s about it, i gota go work… i just mentioned i have bills to pay…

I got one today. but thats not the interesting part, or rather sad part. While I was getting my head groomed, I remembered getting hair cuts in Amman. I used to go sometimes to شارع سينما الحسين or to صالون حبول/شارع كلية الشرطة although I preferred the former. I preferred it because I encountered simpler people that told stories more believable than those of taxi drivers. I miss those days because I had those guys cut my hair while an interesting conversation took place about politics, living conditions and expenses, or about الفيصلي والوحدات Today’s conversation was a nonexistent. First, it was a lady. I do not ever remember a lady cutting my hair in Jordan. then, her fake attempt to carry on a meaningful conversation dwindled down as there was no apparent mutual interest. Also, it is always hard to explain the way I want my hair cut. Lastly, I was not offered tea nor coffee!

Please ensure that your seat is in an upright position and that trays in front of you are folded. Please make sure that all carry on items are stowed away in preparation for landing. Thank you for flying with us today on Royal Jordanian
As you hear these final approach words, your heartbeats start to race as you prepare yourself mentally to arrive home
You start wondering who’s going to be there at the airport. And if you’re going to run into someone you know at the airport. An old study friend or maybe a long lost love. Then you start worrying if your luggage made it, in-one-piece. Or if the customs officers are going to be nice to you or not. What about that guy that smells like cigarettes and have red veins in his eyes in a cheap suit with a think moustache. Is he going to flag you as a possible terrorist or is he going to hit on you (if you’re a girl)
Then you arrive. The passport officers give you the good news that the dudes in the Intelligence would be delighted to see you in person. Not only that, but everyone on the flight will be out and gone while you’re still waiting for your darn luggage. (Which someone conveniently stashed away behind one of the pillars in the airport). You decide to get to the duty free and all you hear is No change, and you can’t get more than two cartons of Marlboro. (Then why the hell are you selling them in boxes of 5?).
You see the duty free shop and it looks like a liquor store more than a duty free shop!
You go out… no body’s waiting because.. well you’re a big boy now! You hop on a Taxi that is supposed to charge you 17.4JD but somehow end up paying 50!
And then …. You arrive home in time for dinner. What a wonderful evening it would be with your family .. Some labaneh, some Za3tar .. and all the love and warmth that you can eat!

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